Prothero's "Religious Literacy"

Stephen Prothero is a professor of religious studies and prolific writer/thinker at the intersection of religion, history, modern times, and education. He seems like a relatively dispassionate observer—more of a tame, cultural Christian than any sort of fervent disciple of Jesus—and so, he is well-suited to speak in objective terms on contentious questions.  

Prothero’s thesis in Religious Literacy is the importance of religious literacy—with a historical review of literacy in America and a call to promoting literacy in the future. In the opening, he contrasts his effort with E.D. Hirsch’s work on cultural literacy. Prothero sees religious literacy as a means to educate (5), whereas Hirsch seems to see cultural literacy as a primary end of education. 

Prothero sees religious illiteracy as equally pervasive but more dangerous, given its importance in making sense of the world—in both an historical and contemporary sense. He is “committed to seeing the study of religion as an indispensable part of a liberal education.” (11) To that end, he provides a 107-page “Dictionary of Religious Literacy” in chapter 6 and a six-page “Religious Literacy Quiz” in an appendix. 

Prothero describes a period of “Eden” in America in this regard—and then “the Fall”. He attributes the Fall primarily to the 2^nd Great Awakening in the early-mid 19^th C and to post-WWII “revival”. (He argues against the 1960s’s cultural shifts and the famous Supreme Court decisions as primary.) The latter comports with my own sense of the 1950s as the highpoint of American Civil Religion—a deistic, moralistic faith that opposed communism. One clear sign of the limits of 1950s religion: its adherents produced the children of the 60s.

Striving to explain the balance between religious and secular interests throughout America’s history, he observes that today, “Both the RR and the SL feel besieged…The emotions on both sides of this question are understandable, though the irony of the situation—in which each side sees itself as a victim and believes that the other is seizing control of the country—seems lost on everyone concerned…neither faith nor faithlessness is close to either bankruptcy or monopoly.” (27) And he argues it has always been this way—“secular by law…[and] religious by choice”—from the Founding Fathers to the three most recent presidents (28b-30). 

Today, K-12 texts treat religion as “an afterthought or an embarrassment” with a “jack-in-the-box approach: religious characters pop up here and there, typically with all of the color and substance of a circus clown.” (55) This is understandable in part, particularly with younger students, given the desire to make history more interesting. But it’s hardly a method to brag about. Instead, Prothero notes that “none of the classic events in American history…can be understood without knowledge of the religious motivations of [those] who made them happen.” From there, he gives a 10,000-foot view with six pages of examples (56-62). 

Why did schools take a “steer clear” approach (68-69)? To play it safe; confusion about the relevant Supreme Court decisions; ignorance about the establishment clause of the Constitution; conflation of “the crucial distinction between theology and religious studies”; and the secular biases of textbook writers. 

Why did religious literacy fade in the churches? Between churches, believers were looking for common ground among denominations. (Ironically, tolerance among Protestants usually combined with intolerance toward Catholics.) “More than the forces of secularism, it was this sort of religion that would do religious literacy in.” (107, 118-119). 

Within churches, sermons emphasized storytelling over the Bible and doctrine. There was a growing emphasis on passion and experience over knowledge and doctrine—even to the point that knowledge was seen as an opponent of piety: “What for generations had been shameful—religious illiteracy—would become a badge of honor in a nation besotted with the self-made man and the spirit-filled preacher.” (109-111) 

In the schools, it “became nearly impossible to discuss religion in most public schools” (even as early as the 19^th C.). There was a shift toward morals over doctrine; textbooks became secularized; tame religious rites became civil more than religious; morality substituted for religion. “The lowest common-denominator Protestantism once preached in public schools morphed into general Christianity, then into generic moralism…not so much salvation as prosperity” (124-127, 135-138)

The famous “revival” of the 1950s was largely of civil religion and “the American way of life”, with passing references to “Judeo-Christian” religion, Eisenhower’s “a deeply felt religious faith and I don’t care what it is”, and Will Herberg’s “faith in faith”. (141-143) “In conforming themselves to American culture, Protestantism, Catholicism and Judaism had become little more than parallel paths up the mountain of the American dream.” (9)

Dallas Willard makes similar observations in The Divine Conspiracy, but distinguishes between the Religious Left’s social gospel (often at the expense of a full-blooded Gospel and discipleship) and the Religious Right’s focus on ascension to minimal doctrinal beliefs (what he labels a “bar-code faith”—getting a sticker slapped on you so you can get scanned into heaven). 

As for solutions, Prothero (160) notes that the SCOTUS gave constitutional permission for the academic story of religion in Abington v. Schempp (1963). And he cites William Brennan in the majority opinion: “plainly does not foreclose teaching about the Holy Scriptures or about the differences between religious sects…impossible to teach meaningfully many subjects in the social sciences or the humanities without some mention of religion.” (160).

As for specifics, first, Prothero (165-167) proposes one required course on the Bible in high school—neither to be preached nor debunked; to include (but not be limited to) teaching it as literature; to discuss its influence on economics, politics, art, music, history, etc.; and to familiarize students with it in a religious literacy sort of way. In particular, he recommends the reading of at least Genesis (Leon Kass would agree with this!) and Matthew. 

Second, Prothero (168-171) recommends a required course in world religions in high school—generally, “the seven great religious traditions” with the occasional tailoring to local circumstances (e.g., native American religions). He cites a public school in Modesto, CA that has a course like this one.

Prothero notes that teachers would need to be trained to execute these two courses well and argues that parents should be given an opt-out. Here, I think he’s optimistic about how this would play out in local politics—and misses the larger, underlying economic picture: the real problem here is that monopoly power of the government’s K-12 education (172).

For Christians who are excited about harnessing these ideas to Christian ends, I’d warn you to be (really) careful what you ask for. Imagine who will teach these courses. And even if you get good teaching, would it promote a Christian worldview and encourage discipleship with Jesus or inoculate people with a safe version of pluralistic religion? Prothero makes a similarly sobering observation to open the book—that the countries where church participation is mandated are places where the Church has been emasculated (1). If you’re an opponent of religion in general or Christianity in particular, ironically, the best way to harm it might be to mandate it.